


Hidden Soldier

by Thepresidentofrussia23



Category: FOX NFL Sunday RPF, National Football League RPF
Genre: Alone, Anger, Betrayal, Cutting, Depression, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pain, Reflection, Regret, Revenge, Russia, Sacrifice, Sadness, Spetsnaz, Suffering, Terrorism, Violence, robgronkowski, therarenoheroes, tombradyisavillan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 01:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 15,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thepresidentofrussia23/pseuds/Thepresidentofrussia23
Summary: Meet Rob Gronkowski, the man that everyone dreams to be, but he is deeply unhappy, he has betrayed America and left for Russia. The story has now progressed and he is now much older and fighting for Russia under a Nom De Guerre Alexei Menshikov. He became a husband and a father and now a widower. This is the story of Rob Gronkowski's story of his rise and fall in America and Russia. Now completed with Rob's son's story included as well.





	1. Indroduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hetsez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hetsez/gifts).



WARNING!!! TRIGGERS MAY OCCUR!!! CUTTING IS A CENTRAL THEME TO THE STORY!!!


	2. Pain and Suffering

My name is Rob Gronkowski, I play for the New England Patriots, I make millions of dollars in investments and endorsements alone, I have millions of fans across the country, I have a mother and a father and a brother named Glenn. But behind all this, I hide a potentially deadly secret, I am a cutter and a former alcoholic, I used to drink like there was no tomorrow, but somehow, somebody betrayed me to the press, I thought my life was ok, I thought that it was all right to drink hard and work harder. I was wrong. sometimes I would wake up and wonder what was I doing there in the first place, I still felt empty even though I knew I should be happy with what I had and because of all the lies and the rumors and all libel spread against me, my reputation is ruined, on the outside I pretend everything is fine and I am the obnoxious meat head everyone knows, I have a mask of happiness and laughter, but on the inside, I am depressed, I am cutting myself, and I am having suicidal thoughts, but I can never tell anyone else, because if I do, anything that is left of my life might be destroyed by the media.   
It all started when the team pressured me into rehab. Once the informant leaked the info, anything I worked hard for went down the drain, my teammates isolated and ostracized me and they would tease and bully me for being a drunkard, my family laughed at me and singled me out for their publicity problems, I guess I deserved the blame, because, after all I am their eldest son, and the eldest son usually bears the family reputation. Even now as I struggle, I wonder if my teammates ever truly cared about me, or they really only used me as a platform to elevate themselves. I sighed and I stood up and saw Tom Brady in his locker, texting when I approached him and said "Brady, I need your help, I need to talk to you about something" Brady blew me off by saying "Sorry, can't help you, once a drunkard, always a drunkard, you are on your own, understood?" At that moment I understood how valued I was, which meant I was unvalued and unloved, even the fans that support me today, backbit me yesterday and will probably backstab me tomorrow, and its funny how life works like that. At that moment I simply walked away and dug into my duffel bag and found a pocket knife, I quickly went to the bathroom stall and I locked myself inside, I lifted my Patriots t-shirt and I took a deep breath before gliding the blade across my waist, cutting it, the cut shed crimson blood, I started cutting and cutting, I couldn't stop, it was as if I scored a super bowl winning touchdown and there was a sudden rush of relief and euphoria that followed, blood quickly spilled down and stained my shorts, I stopped after twenty cuts and quickly unraveled the toilet paper and made a make-shift bandage to stop the bleeding. I have been sober for months now, but it is a struggle because that means no attending parties, no buying beer, no spraying champagne and throwing away all the alcohol I have in the house, and attending rehab and counseling, the sessions are monotonous and are torturous, but all of this comes with a price and that means replacing one addiction with another, an addiction to alcohol has been replaced with an addiction to cutting and it seems like it won't stop anytime soon. Sometimes I wonder when I am going to die, so I can be free of the glares, the stares and the whispers, I wonder if anyone will miss me or even come to my funeral, but then I remember who I'm thinking about and I realize nobody will miss me, I am in a dark, dark place, no one wants to help save me from myself. I sigh and I leave the stall, as a stare at the mirror, I am much thinner and paler than usual, and there are scars running down my arms that nobody has bothered to notice yet, and I pack my stuff and I leave the locker room. Soon when I am in the car I blast "Throw it all away" by Everett Bradley and soon the more I think about the lyrics, the more they apply to my situation.  
Oh, the darkness that dozes at the dusk, throw it all away.  
You see a lie, wherever you go, you have to face it again and again  
You live an endless lie forever, you have to face it again and again.   
Nobody can tear you, nobody can break you.  
You live an endless lie forever, you have to face it again and again


	3. The Traitor's Training

They say that the beginning of any traitor is when they fall out of love of something. I fell out of love of the United States since it labeled me as a drunkard and as a alcoholic, I needed love not blame, but blame was what I received and they took away my purpose to live: To make America happy. I no longer had love for a country where freedom was merely an illusion and terrorism was the norm.   
My life was an endless lie and I was no longer needed by anyone, I was sure of that until a man knocked on my door and the conversation went something like this:  
Unknown person: Hello, I would like to talk to you my name is Sergev Lavaov, are you tired of living for the sake of the people of America?  
Me: Um, kind of.  
Sergev: Do you want to learn the secrets of hacking and use them against Americans?  
Me: Isn't that illegal?  
Sergev: Who the hell cares, I'm a Russian anyway.  
Me: I am not an exact rah-rah type of patriot for America anyway and I don't approve of what they do.  
Sergev: I have been sent by my senior to tell you that you have been recruited by the KGB and we would like for you to be a part of us.  
Me: I don't know, maybe I will think about it.  
Sergev: Please take your time, but not too much time. Here is a business call. Use an untraceable phone number.  
I couldn't help but think he wanted my decision and fast. As the agent left my house, I groaned and tried not to think about how I was going to hide from the government agencies if I decided to accept the offer. I dialed the phone number and was subjected to an hour long marathon of being on hold, then I requested Sergev who said "You are a rare exception, I will come back and talk." When Sergev came back I said "I accept your offer, what do you have for me?" Sergev smiled and replied "Stay with your team and build a double life, make a false name and an alias to work with, you will do espionage and hacking for D-ranked missions, c- ranked were spying, B- ranked were kidnapping, A- ranked were coup de tats S-ranked missions will be assassinations and there will be very difficult training sessions for you to overcome in order to pass through the ranks. I and my colleagues will personally train you in many areas and facets of being a spy including hacking, interrogation, kidnapping, hostage taking, blackmailing, combat skills such as judo, muay thai, jiu jitsu, karate, knife combat, also other skills such as camouflage, bomb making, poison making and assassination techniques and even more. Your first training session is tomorrow, 0700 sharp." He left and I sighed in defeat. I wondered how I was going to participate in training and be a player at the same time. The next day, I arrived at a James bond style bunker, ready to train, there I was trained on chemistry of poisons and explosives, I was taught how to use weapons and how to kill, I was taught interrogation techniques and how to counter them with my own, I was given endless lectures on pressure points and the human anatomy and how to use this knowledge in controlling bleeding, I was bursting with knowledge but Sergev told me "This will only get harder Mr. Gronkowski, be prepared." Through the months I was relentlessly drilled into physical martial arts, killing through various methods, hacking, avoiding detection in crowds and alone, kidnapping and hostage taking as well as torturing and interrogating prisoners, even with this training I still cut myself relentlessly whenever I messed up on a drill or failed a test and my training gave me knowledge to survive in the wild, I even learned Russian and how to get away with murder in different countries, I learned how to be a sniper and how to neutralize targets; in other words I have become the next James Bond or Jason Bourne. I am even given a code name: Alexei Menshikov, I have become someone, but is it someone I want to be? I still relentlessly torture myself because no matter how feared I am, I will never regain the respect that I lost.


	4. The Traitor's Mission

It has been nine months since my training began, life continues to be the same and I still get treated the same (read: I'm still getting ignored) I still cut and enjoy the crimson fluid flowing down the slits by using a sharp pocket knife, I suddenly remember that my mission begins now.  
Today I am in the Siberian region of Russia, tracking down a CIA agent and my objective is to capture him at all costs, and if necessary; eliminate him, the snowy region stretches before me as I drive in my snowmobile, quietly following my target, the cold is biting through my skin, the snow is falling and is reducing my visibility, I wore white all over to avoid detection, I even wore white face paint and it sure as heck works better than black face paint, I wear a white inner parka and a thick white outer parka, the snow pants were thick as well and strapped on my left thigh was a pistol, and slung on my shoulder was a AK-47 and I am wearing snow goggles designed to ward off UV rays, my boots are military style, suddenly my instincts told me to shoot the leg, and avoid the femoral artery at all costs, I aim carefully and shoot, the bullet strikes him in the thigh, the target tumbles off of his snowmobile, spraying blood left and right, I quickly leapt off of my snowmobile and landed near the screaming target, I quickly bandaged him up, and tied him up, he was swearing in Russian and I pistol whipped him, and he blacked out.  
Today is the day my loyalty for the United States dies with the agent begging for mercy, I feel no emotion flit in my hardened heart, I craved love, I desired attention, but now, the Americans can go to hell for all I care. I gave them my heart and they collectively broke it into pieces. Now they will feel the wrath of Rob Gronkowski and Alexei Menshikov, I know that God has forsaken me, there is nothing he did to save me, now I will no longer serve a concept that refused to answer my calls for help. I pull out the AK-47 and I fire the rifle into the man's forehead-instantly killing him as blood sprays everywhere, I pull out the thumb drive and the scrolls and the laptop and I bury the body and leave.


	5. Rule Number One: Trust Nobody

I quickly get to work on reconciling with my family and to apologize to them. My parents forgive me but my brother Glenn refuses to talk to me even after I provided proof of me attending rehab and showing that I have drug tested clean for the past two years, I realize that Glenn is someone to keep an eye on. I quickly regain much of my respect but it is still not the same, nobody trusts me but at least I know now there is somewhat of a picture of who sides with me and who hates me.


	6. Rule number two: Lull enemies into a sense of false security.

I continued my life as normal, I still played for the Patriots, though some players wanted me gone for no reason other than the fact I was still turning around my life, I still conducted press conferences, I still got endorsement deals, I still went on social media and updated my pages, though I made my pages a bit mundane, I no longer took pictures of me with kittens and stuff like that, my new bosses wanted me to ride bears shirtless like Vladimir Putin but I thought that was too dangerous and decided not to do that. In other words, I was still the same Rob Gronkowski that everyone saw and knew through their media. I let the world see what they wanted to see, I carefully crafted a mask of boyish exuberance and childish antics to distract from the real problem. I quickly assumed a double life, during the day I was Rob Gronkowski of the New England Patriots but, during the night while I conducted missions, I became Alexei Menshikov, an agent for the KGB and a ruthless agent, I hacked relentlessly during the night and posted exposes as an hidden source and I would wreak havoc on people's lives including the DNC's chairman's life, in fact she had to resign because of my hacking into her emails. I would kidnap people and interrogate people until they confessed and gave up information, I still cut myself under the stress of both worlds. One day Danny Amendola bullied me about how much of a coward I was, I did not retaliate against him, but I retaliated against myself by dragging the pocket knife across my skin and watching it bleed fast and furious. I quickly patched myself up and decided to hack Dak Prescott's email account, on my laptop, I quickly logged on and used a software hack into Dak's computer, and steal all of his personal information, soon the next day, TMZ was running tabloids about Dak's personal life and through the months Dak began to see his world crumble around him and he committed suicide when it became all too much for him, it was only then people began to feel remorse for what they had done to torture and humiliate Dak.


	7. Rule Number three: Assume nothing

I was riding a motor bike in the dense, humid Amazon forest somewhere in Colombia, and my mission was to kidnap the CEO of a logging corporation and interrogate him on the drug cartels he had been funding and supporting with transportation and positions of power in his company and he helped protect them with corrupt officers. In the jungle I wore olive green army fatigues, a bullet-proof vest, strapped to my left hip was a katana, and draped on my shoulders were bullets for the AK-47 red-dot sight rifle that was strapped to my back, my face was smeared with forest green, and black face paint, on my head was a green helmet. I drove into a clearing, I saw a waterfall pouring down and trees grew in clusters around it, there were creatures in the clearing but I did not disturb them, I drove further and deeper until I saw a cluster of yellow tents standing out against the greenery, I leapt off the bike and flattened myself against the ground and crawled, unfortunately I was spotted and several bodyguards tried to swarm me but I quickly performed a judo crosskick and quickly slashed a man in the throat and then I did a karate kick to the throat of a another man, instantly crushing his throat and causing him to suffocate to death, I shot several of the guards in the chest, throat, and head and mercilessly strangled a bodyguard to death. I found the CEO drinking from a fancy cup, whatever was he doing there was beyond me, I was told to capture him at all costs and was promised ten thousand dollars for his capture or death by INTERPOL, I, Alexei am afraid for my life, I know of many things that could go wrong, but I quickly tackle the CEO and I smack him on the temple with the handle of the katana, he instantly blacks out and I tie him up and I quickly load him up and drive to Peru where I find a an interpreter and when the CEO wakes up, I begin the interrogation process, one major hitch; he was not the CEO, he was the body double, I scream and swear and I find out the man's name is Carlos Guzman and he is the CFO, not the CEO, the CEO is safe in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia; I keep swearing and cursing my head off, I should have known that CEOs hate nature and greenery, and most of all I realize I nearly made a deadly mistake that under any other circumstances would have got me killed. I grumble before I punch Carlos in the face, knocking him out, I hand him over to an INTERPOL agent and I report that the mission was a failure, I can safely say that my boss swore a few unprintable curses in Russian before he ordered me to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.


	8. Rule four:If you want to keep a secret, you must also keep it from yourself.

Secrets define us. They make our past and they cast a shadow on our future, if we are to keep these secrets, we must never, under any circumstances tell anyone about our past because our past contains secrets, secrets that could ruin us, secrets that could destroy our attempt at redemption from the past and our chance to escape from the shadowy clutches from the ghosts of the ruins of our lives. Even as I drove through the maze like, crowded, bustling streets of Kuala Lumpur, I knew these lessons were to be branded and memorized in my memory, never to be forgotten. I was told that the CEO was residing in a hotel near the water front where the wealthy aristocrats lived in fancy cabins on the beach, soon I arrived at the hotel, ready to assassinate my target, I snuck into the hotel using an "Employees only" entrance and I explored the basement to get a feel of my surroundings, then I quickly went to the main floor, it was heavily decorated and no expense was spared in order to make it look luxurious, I am no good at describing my surroundings...so picture an extremely fancy lobby at a five-star hotel. I quickly made my way through the lobby and snuck through the hallways and the stairs and when I approached the door, I flattened myself against the wall next to the door, I quickly kicked down the door with my foot and I scanned the room and I tackled the man, I then tied him up, pistol whipped him into unconsciousness. I finished the interrogation session about several hours later.


	9. Rule number seven: In the face of pain, there are no heroes.

I was back in Boston after the mission, but instead of feeling happy, I was depressed, I quickly turned to my only source of inflicting pain and torture on myself: my knife. I quickly resorted to cutting myself faster and deeper, I didn't even care about the blood that was pouring down my waist, I enjoyed the pain and suffering that resonated through my body, I enjoyed the sight of my own blood running down my body like a waterfall, I fell in love in sight of my own suffering, my own agony, my own pain, nobody would be here to save me from myself and I didn't even care anymore, I quickly bandaged myself up and gasped in pain, I was too dizzy and weak to answer the phone, much less attend practice with the Patriots, I breathed heavily as I lay on the couch, exhausted and weak, I didn't care if I was cut from the Patriots anymore, I just wanted to bleed and suffer for what I did and how much I embarrassed myself, my team, my friends, my family and the organization that I worked for in public. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, when I woke up I started cutting myself on my arms, legs and bled all over, my clothes were a mess and so was the floor. It took me an hour to clean up the mess and wash the bloodied clothing and mop up the blood stained floor, it practically looked like a murder scene even though it was because of me harming myself. When I weighed myself, I realized I had lost over twenty pounds and I would continue to lose more weight so I could lift my own weight, I needed to lose five more pounds in order to meet my goal of doing so even though it would come at the cost of my bulky shaped body, my fists smashed the scale and my palms were bloodied from the glass protruding through the skin and I screamed and cried, I banged my palms on the wall in front of me and before I knew it, I was a weeping, bloody mess and Belichick was holding me tightly and was leading me into the ER so the doctor could pull out the glass and stitch up the cuts. I could hear him ranting about him finding me facedown and unconscious in my front yard when he came to check up on me, he continued to yell about how he thought I was dead and had to call the ambulance. I was too dizzy to understand the concern behind the words that were shouted at me, but at least he wasn't silent and I held onto him as if he was the only thing that kept me alive. I gasped as I was told I was lucky to be alive, I wasn't shocked to find out that the doctor told me that I had lost a lot of blood. I lay in the hospital bed as coach made phone calls to my teammates to explain why I wasn't there. Soon the team arrived but I was too exhausted to make an effort to even address them, Tom Brady was in tears when he saw me stitched up and bandaged and hooked up to tubes and drips, the rest of the team was stunned and shocked that their star tight end was still alive after a massive mental breakdown. The doctor came in and said "Rob Gronkowski has suffered an emotional and mental breakdown and has attempted suicide as well, he will need to have some time off from his football duties to ease himself from the stress he has suffered from, he will be in suicide watch for a week for good measure" I turned over on my hospital bed and fell asleep to the humming of the machinery. When I woke up a few hours later I was told a therapist would come and see me and to talk to me. After an hour of intense therapy, I still needed to cut, but I had to resist the urge for now and play along with their games and pretend everything was okay.


	10. Rule number eight: Attack swiftly and move silently

It has been a month later and I am in the dry Sahara dunes, waiting to attack a rebel outpost in Libya, several agents accompanied me to make sure I did not make any irrational decisions, my boss ordered me back in the frontlines of action as soon I was discharged from the hospital. I wore desert fatigues, a Kevlar vest, and an aluminum helmet, on my eyes were goggles to keep away the sand and the grit and to protect my eyes from the bullets, strapped to my back was a rocket launcher and an AK-47, guns were my favorite of the uniform-sadly I would have to return it to HQ once the mission was finished. I grit my teeth as I crawled forward and flattened myself against the sand and carefully snuck forward. I quickly take out several guards and sneak inside, I try and avoid the guards as much as possible. Soon we attack the base and force the enemy to flee, in the chaos; I was shot in the chest and I felt blood was leaking into my chest cavity, I fell to my knees and started choking on my own blood, I heard one of my comrades curse in Russian as I collapsed from the pain and the shock of the bullet passing through my body and even my vest did not protect me this time. It suddenly struck me that this was the first time as a KGB officer, I was shot and wounded on duty and perhaps I was dying. I saw one of my comrades' scream for a stretcher, I saw my target was also wounded and was trying to get away when I shot a toxic blow dart at the back of his forearm and he instantly collapsed several meters away from me. Puddles of blood began to form around me and I really didn't care anymore, if I died, who cares? If I lived, I would defect to Russia once and for all and leave all that I once cared for behind once and for all. I was strapped to a headboard and my comrades were controlling the bleeding as best as they could using whatever meager supplies we had on hand and soon a helicopter landed near the outpost and Oleg screamed to the pilot in Russian "Take him to Sicily, take him to Italia! We can wait!" I was taken inside the helicopter, a medic told me in his soothing, husky Russian accent "Hang on Alexei, you will be okay." I was gasping and heaving as I stared at him, and after several minutes, our helicopter took off and we were flying to Sicily, Italy; it was nearly an hour later when we arrived, the helicopter landed on the helipad and I can remember the medic shouting commands in Italian to the doctors, I was lifted onto a gurney and they were wheeling me as fast as they could towards the OR and that was when I blacked out. I woke up in the ICU, exhausted and determined to completely cleanse myself of being Rob Gronkowski, the medic who cared for me was next to me sitting on a chair and when I looked towards him, the medic cried out in Russian "Do you have any idea how badly you have frightened me?" I apologized to him in Russian.


	11. Rule Eight: Run, hide for your worthless life

When you let lie get so out of control that it becomes your life you know you have a problem   
I was packing my bags and leaving America, once and for all. I will never return to a country that has dishonored and destroyed my name, the world will go searching for Rob Gronkowski, but they will never find him. They will only find Alexei Menshikov in his place. I have even written a retirement letter and I will read it aloud, I will answer no questions and I will not acknowledge nor will I thank the people who left my life shambles. I tell Bill "I think it is time for me to step aside due to health reasons and you know I can't last forever in the Not For Long League, I have decided to retire for my own sake and I hope you understand" Belichick coldly replies "I and the Patriots organization wish the very best for you in your future endeavors Mr. Gronkowski" I and Bill shake hands one last time and I take one last look at the American life I will leave behind, I gaze at the Gillette Stadium and I walk away from everything I once knew. In Moscow I was greeted by my boss and he brought me to his home and said "You sure you won't go back to America, you have family and Russia values family." I curtly respond in Russian "I am sure of my decision that I never want to go back, in fact I want to become a Russian solider once I become a Russian citizen." Nikolai says "I hope you will become one of the soldiers who will guard the Kremlin someday." I eventually quit being a KGB agent and join the army, it is no easy task being a recruit, my training is harsh and intense and it is more difficult than anything I have ever experienced, I crawl under barbed wire, leap over obstacles, learn to disarm bombs, lift 200 pound logs on my own and carry them through the muddy ground, I do all sorts of heavy work to build the muscles that I have lost through cutting and losing weight, some of the basic army training is already building up on the training I received when I was training for the KGB and not to brag but I can now deadlift 500 pounds, my body is becoming bulkier, meanwhile, I am unaware of events that are happening across the world that will give me a blast of the past in a way I had never expected.   
Meanwhile in Augusta, Maine.  
I am Glenn Gronkowski, I grew up with a good brother an older brother I could look up and see as an example to until he started drinking and getting himself into TMZ tabloids, he would embarrass himself and the rest of our family with drunken blackouts, as a result, my reputation was trashed because of my god damned brother, eventually he got himself help because of his teammates pressuring him into rehab according to TMZ, I knew he was hiding a secret from the rest of us when he started acting strangely around us and would avoid visiting me and the rest of the family, soon I noticed he began to seem thinner and dark circles appeared under his eyes, I as the so called 'wonderful brother' did not bother to even ask him, this continued for three years until he up and retired then just disappeared off the grid completely, heck he even deleted his social accounts and changed his phone number and relocated to a place even I don't know, it has been three years since I have seen him, I wonder if he is still alive, he has not answered any of my calls, texts, IM's, or E-mails, I can only hope he isn't homeless in some city and panhandling for spare change, I eventually get a job as an ambassador of the United States to Russia, I can only hope I will convince Putin not to implement any counter sanctions against us, as I arrive in the Kremlin, the honor guard stiffens and they raise their chins in an air of haughtiness, I head up the stairs to the main chamber where the other ambassadors are lined up in a row and we all are carrying our letters of introduction, soon Vladimir Putin came into the room and warmly smiled at everyone, an announcer would introduce us individually in Russian and the respective person would walk to Vladimir and hand him the letter, then the person would stand next to Putin for a photo-op and shake hands then walk back to his respective position, this process repeated its self until all ambassadors had handed in their letter and had their photo taken with the Russian president, then he delivers his remarks to all of our nations, as we all left for our respective embassies, I saw someone who would shock me forever.  
In Moscow, Russia  
My training with the Russian army was so intense that my training with the KGB was a day camp in comparison. My strength multiplied and soon I was deployed overseas after a year of training, I was soon sent to fight the Ukrainian separatists, I watched my fellow soldiers die like flies, at one point a mortar shell exploded and wounded my leg, I screamed as the blood oozed through the gaping wound, I bled as I lay on the muddy ground and rain pounded the dirt into a mushy mix of dirt, leaves, blood and corpses, I was eventually rescued and patched up and sent back into action to fight for two years in Ukraine, after two years, I was promoted and medaled for my heroism for ending the conflict with heroism and valor, meanwhile I also became a Russian citizen and I became a guard at the Kremlin, I was so honored because very few soldiers ever had the opportunity to meet Vladimir, when I met Putin, I was glad I had learned Russian with the KGB before I became a Russian solider, but one day I was told to take the night shift at the Kremlin to watch over the ambassadors, I was shocked when I saw Glenn Gronkowski walking with the other ambassadors, chatting jovially as he left, when he saw me, my blood froze, he was dressed in a formal suit adorned with silver cufflinks and an ivory tie bar. I said nothing and kept my lips tight in a grimace that is intimidating and off-putting to foreigners but Glenn still approached me and whispered in my ear "Why, Rob Why?" Glenn was teary eyed and walked away with the other ambassadors, I sighed in relief as Glenn left and as my shift ended, we did the ceremonial change of the color guard and I goose stepped away, I returned to the barracks and got myself some sleep before I woke up the next day. Someone told me that I would be marching in the 72nd Victory parade and soon I change into my Russian military ceremonial dress, I someday want to become a maroon beret so I can show everyone that I am stronger than ever before and my past can go to hell for all it can care. The Spetsnaz are the elite of the elite like the American Navy Seal Team 6 and I want to join them in counterterrorism operations, I am in better shape than ever before, I have two years of combat experience and had years of PT under my belt, I felt confident that I could pass the test and have what it takes to be a Spetsnaz. I know I need to become a blue beret before I can become a maroon beret, soon at ten o'clock, the crowds have gathered and I am in my position in the 27th Guards Motor Rifle Brigade ready to march my feet off for Putin and his lower ranking officers. Soon Putin delivers a speech praising the WWII veterans and their sacrifices, and afterwards we chant "Ura" over and over seven times, then we sing the Russian national anthem and after that, the brigades start marching through the red square one by one by one. Soon as my brigade and I are marching through the square and I turn to face the reviewing stand, and to my horror I see Glenn on the stand watching the soldiers, I certainly hope he does not see me as I march down the street. Soon, the next day is the National Elite Exams is the day for Russian soldiers, sailors, and airmen to participate in the national elite exams, these tests will test our mental, physical and intellectual forte in battle, those who pass will be reassigned to elite Spetsnaz forces for their respective armed force branch and those who fail have two more attempts to get to the elite forces, after two tries, if you can't pass, you remain in the standard forces. I am put to the test with the written test and I barely pass by ten points, I am sent into a forest and I am told to hunt down mock enemies and "kill" them, the snow is being blown in my face and visibility is decreasing, soon I see a puff of cigarette smoke rising from a tree top, I shoot at a source with a paintball gun and the enemy falls over into a snowdrift and I finish him off, I kill ten other enemies and after a day of being tested, I finally become a blue beret, the next day, the graduation ceremony commences and I am handed my blue beret and I sob with joy, I am ready to take my military career to the next level to become a maroon beret.


	12. A grief that stabs like ice

The sun rises and the sun sets each and every day, the leaves grow, bloom and fall away as the snow freezes them to the ground, people are born and people die, but this is none of my concern, the world revolves around the blazing star but no one cares to thank its warmth and I certainly don't either. My muscles are growing stronger each and every day, but I am also getting older, I settle down by getting married to a Russian woman named Anastasia, her beauty is stunning and soon I am the father of a son named Oleg, fatherhood is no easy task and neither is being in a committed relationship with a woman, Oleg is two and is already running around and pretending to shoot the trees and being a solider, as the years pass, I am already beginning to forget about the incident in the Kremlin all those years ago, suddenly I am told by my superior that I will be tested once again in the Exams, I realize that my dream is just this close and is within my reach, all I have to do now is to pass the test and earn the beret and the rank will be all mine. The next day I receive a phone call telling me that Glenn was assassinated in Tbilisi, Georgia by a sniper while acting as a mediator between the government and the separatist forces. I weep and wail at the horror of Glenn's death, I don't have time to attend his funeral because today is the first part of my exams and I need to get going, the darkness that is seeping within my soul threatens to force a relapse in my cutting addiction, I quickly grab my pocket knife and cut myself a few times and then I leave for the exams. The fact that I didn't reconcile with him before he died haunts me every single second of my life. I feel a sadness that engulfs me like an abyss of darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. This is not what I had intended when I left America, I didn't intend for my brother to die because of me. I only wanted to heal my destroyed and shattered reputation and look what happened: Dak is dead and so is my brother. I despise the sniper that took my brother Glenn away, I realize now, I have so much damage to repair before I can redeem myself. Is this what I wanted? No. I never wanted anybody to get hurt and yet people have died because of me because their lives were ruined due to my foolishness. I should've known better, this all could've been prevented and the grief that I and the Prescott and the rest of family we have to endure could've been averted. I wonder if the world is better off without me, that my wife and my son will survive without me...I just feel this crushing sadness, that I will lose the battle against. The best delusion is hope, the worst delusion is love, and in the end; nothing gets better, it just doesn't, despite the delusional hopes of people, it never gets better, we can only learn to tolerate the pain, but no more, because nothing gets easier, nothing gets better, it only gets worse and harder with each breath I take. The choking grief stabs like ice through my chest as I weep and wail at the horror of the images of Glenn's dead body, splayed on a concrete sidewalk, his blood and brains sprayed everywhere and his eyes, staring into nothingness, a victim of terrorism. My knees felt like they were gonna go weak as the exam results were posted and I found out that I had indeed passed and I had truly had become a Maroon beret...but at what cost? Was all of this worth it? Was the death of my brother Glenn, the suicide of Dak Prescott, the murder of countless C.I.A agents worth it? Was their blood on my hands worth the dark red beret that rested in my hands? The Maroon color represented the blood that each dead Spetsnaz soldier had spilled in the name of Mother Russia, each and everyone of them had sacrificed everything so that their families would be safe against the Nazis and the Chechen terrorists. What was this honor worth? What was the rank I bore on my shoulder boards worth? Was I a human being at all, or was I a monster? My tears streaked my face as I swallowed the lump in my throat and sharply saluted my commander after putting on my beret. The cheers shook the bleachers as my young son and my wife enbraced me as I celebrated and whooped with delight in my accomplishment.


	13. Rule Nine: Do not under any circumstances return to the 'X'

I have been promoted to Miladshiy Leytenant and now I am being sent to Mosul to fight against ISIS as a member of the bomb squad, it is a dangerous and deadly job like no other, I am in the dry deserts rather than the humid forests of Chechnya when I battled the rebels years ago because of George Soros. This time, I am fighting because of the St. Petersburg bombing and I will make those rapists shit their pants and wish they were never born with my torture and sniping skills. But five months in, I am badly injured by close quarter fighting and a suicide bomber and I have to be sent back home to recuperate for my injuries. my son is now twelve years old, he is a prodigy and he wants to join the Russian Air Force and he is quiet and serious, he refuses to associate with people of his age, he is instead taking flight classes using stimulators and computers, Oleg is physically training himself day by day and socializes with and trusts no one. I can only watch as my son becomes withdrawn and disciplined in his studies, he is taking AP courses and wants to become the youngest pilot in Russian history, Oleg is polite, brief, curt and dresses in a suit and tie almost everywhere he goes, he speaks, read and writes fluently in both English and Russian, but Oleg is severely lacking in being a normal kid for once. I could only watch as Oleg grew and matured and understood things faster than I did. I am promoted to Mládshiy Leytenánt (Мла́дший лейтена́нт) (Junior Lieutenant) and I am forced to return to Moscow, Russia to begin new work, paperwork is beginning to be a norm, I am rarely sent to the field and as I begin to reflect, I realize I made an awful mistake, I still want to see the USA and to see was has happened of my broken past, I only want to take a brief glance, but I am afraid, what will I see? And so my wife told me "Go look and see, do not be afraid Alexei, you must confront the past and make peace with it." And so with a week off from my work, I return to Boston after thirteen years and I am now forty years old, I am wearing my military uniform and hope that nobody recognizes but, but unfortunately die-hard fans do recognize me and take photos of me, and soon I run to my taxi and I am off into the city, even the taxi driver says "Where the hell have you been for the past thirteen years Rob?" I corrected him by saying "My name isn't Rob Gronkowski, its Junior Lieutenant Alexei Menshikov and another thing, I am a Russian, not American, and who is this Rob Gronkowski?" Then the taxi driver replied "Don't deny you are Rob, Alexei you need to see what happened since you disappeared off the radar." I sighed and he dropped me off in downtown Boston and I forgot to tip him after I paid the fare (Russians don't tip taxi drivers) I walked through the streets and saw hardly anything changed, a person suddenly bumped into me and I growled in Russian "Смотрите, где вы собираетесь" (Smotrite, gde vy sobirayetes') (Watch where you are going) and I stomped off angrily but the person shouted "Come back here, I know you!" I turned around and saw Danny Amendola in the flesh, he looked much older, his hair was graying from the roots and he was wearing casual clothing, I employed the classic Russian glare and Amendola backed off and said "Sorry but I really want to talk to you." I told him in English "Leave me alone, in case if you can't tell, I'm a member of the KGB and Spetsnaz so back off." Amendola staggered backwards and ran off, I grumbled a few slurs in Russian before heading off, I then headed into a sports bar and suddenly I was mobbed by fans begging for autographs and selfies, I took selfies with them and gave them autographs, I sat down in the bar and watched some television and before I knew it, I was going viral on twitter and I wasn't even aware of it. I then left the bar after eating French fries and a burger, I used to enjoy this food when I was still with the Patriots, but when I joined the KGB, I was forced to cut down on greasy food and fattening food in general, and after years of eating Russian food, it felt like I was drinking tank oil and believe me that tank oil tastes better. As I left the bar I went to Boston harbor where there was a yacht anchored to the dock, I remembered back when I was younger, I drank like I had no tomorrow, but those days are long gone. I then go to a café and drink some tea and eat some Russian scones when a man taps me on the shoulder, I snap "What do you want, can't you see I'm trying to enjoy my food?" I turned around and saw it was Danny again and I spat "What do you need, do I owe you any money? If not, then leave me the hell alone!" Danny replies "Rob, calm down, I just want to talk to you, why are you wearing a Russian military uniform in the States? Is this your idea of a joke?" I replied "I am a member of the Spetsnaz and I am a Junior Lieutenant, so no, this is not a joke." Danny was stunned and broke the tense silence by saying "So you are in the Russian army, correct?" I confirmed this and Danny countered "How could you do this to us, I thought we were your friends, Rob!" I retorted "I thought the same thing when you guys turned your back on me when I struggled with alcoholism, now that I have been clean for the past thirteen years, it is safe to say, you and the rest of the team need to fuck off. I am a proud Russian and I will die for Russia, Russia took me in when America cast me out, I don't even know why I even decided to come back and visit this sorry excuse of a country." Amendola was quiescent when I finished my rant, Amendola then said "At least see your parents before you go back to your 'beloved Mother Russia' your parents are a mess since your brother Glenn was assassinated in Tbilisi, Rob? ROB! Listen to me, are you okay?" I collapsed when I heard the words 'assassinated' I could barely hear his words and I didn't care, I still hadn't recovered from Glenn's death and probably never would, I was fitfully sobbing and choking, whimpers came from my throat as I tried to breathe, Amendola looked very sad and regretful as images of Glenn's lifeless body flashed across my mind, I imagined a gory mess sprayed across the concrete, mixed with the flesh and bone, and I passed out, I woke up in the local hospital with my parents sitting next to me and some of the former players were there including, Tom Brady and Julian Edelman, my father looked like he had aged at least twenty years, my mother was quietly sobbing and Brady looked ashamed of himself. I got up and my father said "Why did you leave us, why were you not happy with America." I regretted returning because I saw a face on my father that I could not face. My dad looked disappointed and heartbroken, his eyes had a hint of sadness and acceptance and then my father then continued and said "What secrets are you hiding from us?" I told him "I was not happy with America because the press ruined me, I was forgotten by my own family and abandoned by my own teammates, I left for Russia because I was a KBG agent, I knew I would not be able to hide from the authorities and so I joined the Russian military and became a Russian citizen, I am now married to Anastasia and I have a son named Oleg, I am a Junior Lieutenant officer in the Spetsnaz and once I am discharged, I plan on returning to Moscow for good and this time, I definitely won't come back." My father said "I was told by Glenn that you were in Russia, I didn't want to believe that my son had defected to the Russians of all the countries, but it seems that it is the truth." My mother simply said "We respect your decision to go back to Russia even if we don't necessarily agree with it." Brady said "I'm sorry you feel this way about how you were treated, we hope you find happiness in the frozen tundra of Russia." I whined "Where is my beret?" and Brady handed it to me, I kissed the beret and slipped it on, like I always did. Brady exclaimed "Rob are you actually a maroon beret? Maroon berets are the elite paratrooper commandos in Russia!" I nodded and I said "My name isn't Rob anymore, its Alexei Menshikov and I thought I told this to Danny!" My father was silent and then replied "You may have changed your identity to hide from the authorities but you will always be Rob Gronkowski to me." When I was discharged from the hospital, my father said "Take care of your wife and your son, do not abandon them as you have abandoned us." I bowed my head and my mother fingered my medals on my chest and kissed the Russian flag pin that was on my beret and said "Good bye Rob, fight for what you believe in and don't give up." She hugged me tightly and sobbed and choked out "I love you Rob, no matter who you are, you just never noticed it until now, just don't give up on yourself, please don't." I will admit I cried, I realized then, I was selfish, I could have faced my problem, but instead, I chose to run away from it and my brother Glenn paid the price with his blood and his life, my mother and my father were emotionally broken in the process and all I ever did was go to war, blow up and shoot rebels and get a shit-ton of medals that mean nothing to me now because of what I had done to my family, I knew then there was no way I could redeem myself from the past. I first arrived at Tbilisi to visit Glenn's grave, Georgian flags fluttered along the wind as they were strung on poles and in mid-air. I knelt before Glenn's headstone, it was in the shape of a cross and I kissed it and removed my beret out of reverence and respect for Glenn, I lay some fresh flowers on his grave and I said "I am sorry Glenn, I needed to leave, I wish I could explain, but now I will never be able to do so, I am sorry that this is not the outcome under which we meet again" I returned to Russia and hugged my wife tightly and Oleg said in Russian "I missed you father." He looked tired and older and he seemed to grow a few inches while I was away, or was that my eyesight? At any rate, I embraced him with all I had and my new boss was furious and shouted at me in Russian and said "You are lucky you did not get arrested on your way back Alexei, the Americans are hunting for you, there is no way you can ever return to the United States without being arrested and thrown into federal prison. I'm sorry that I had to tell you this, but INTERPOL is hunting for you in Canada and Mexico." I asked "For whom?" and he replied "Rob Gronkowski." I was glad I showed my Russian passport containing my Russian name because I would have been arrested by border patrol. Then my boss said "You have a lot of paperwork to catch up on." I then headed to the Kremlin where the Ministry of Defense was housed, I arrived to see the minister and he handed me a stack of paperwork that had to be completed. I filled out blank spaces stating the coordinates of airstrikes completed and the militants killed by each of them, this routine continued for another three months until I was told to meet up with Putin and the Minister of Defense and I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel (Подполко́вник) (Podpolkóvnik) and I was deployed to Fallujah, Iraq, where I would serve as an adviser to the Iraq Security Forces, this meant I had my share of serving in action as well as trying to protect my comrades from insurgents and militants alike. As a Lieutenant Colonel, I had more responsibilities than ever before, I spent five years in Fallujah, Iraq and in Mosul as well, in grand total, I spent ten years overseas and by this time, Oleg was twenty-two and my wife Anastasia had died of a heart attack and Oleg was so devastated he joined the Russian air force to get away from his grief for his dead mother and when I returned to Moscow, I was told I would be promoted to Colonel General (Генера́л-полко́вник) (Generál-polkóvnik) while Oleg was so proficient in his Air Force tests that he passed and was sent into the 45th Guards Special Purpose Brigade and he was awarded the rank Starshina, I was so proud of him that I threw him a party for his acceptance letter and an aging Putin came by and said "Alexei, become the Ministry of Defense, you are very brave and very wise, you can help others as a Minister just as you did as a solider." I accepted the position and I was sworn in a month later, soon Tom Brady came into my office a month later after that and he seemed stunned as to why I was in a Russian uniform and why was I serving the Russian government, he even began to demand me to return to the States when I told him "Listen Tom, let's not pretend that things are hunky dory because they aren't." Brady seemed stunned before continuing "Please Rob, I am sorry, I really am, please come back." I felt a dormant rage erupt and awaken as I retorted "They are a rotten crowd (the team and the people in general) you're the whole damn bunch put together!" I picked up my binder containing files and walked out and left a speechless Tom Brady in my wake.


	14. "Compassion is the enemy, Mercy defeats us."-Rafe Adler

I am sent back to Mosul, Iraq to supervise the demining operations while my son Oleg is sent on a bombing mission to Pyongyang, North Korea. I am fearful for Oleg's life, I already lost my brother to an assassin and my wife to a deadly heart attack, I don't want to lose my only legacy, the little boy who is now a man, ready to die for Mother Russia, the strength that keeps me going into the dark days as my split identity crisis worsens: Who am I? Am I Rob Gronkowski of the United States or am I Alexei Menshikov of Russia, the question is not easy to answer and there are no easy answers, my past walks within me, deeply embedded in my genetic codes as an American, no matter how much I claim to be a Russian at heart. I carefully yank false traps and snip wires intended to trip and make the victim easy prey for bombs from the trap doors embedded in the ceiling. I will free the people of Iraq from ISIS or die trying, I will kill the monstrous group and I will save the innocent men, women and children from these monsters. These terrorists sniped my brother and bombed so many major cities and ran over so many crowds, it makes me so angry that I almost become reckless and I nearly set off a pressure land mine, my classic foolishness almost cost me my legs and potentially my life. I realize that then I need to stop thinking and start doing, I will do no good if am dead and under a flag draped casket, I carefully remove several bombs from a farmer's house, I hope that man and his family can someday return and restore his life and help heal this shattered nation. I wish the Iraqis well in their quest for redemption against the enemy, at that moment an Iraqi Federal Policeman shouted for me to come and meet the Prime Minister of Iraq and his name is Haider Al-Abadi.


	15. Rule number ten: Nothing is Safe, Nothing is Immune in Iraq

After a highly publicized and televised press conference with the Prime Minister of Iraq. The man was led away with his guards, soldiers and policemen and they flew away on a helicopter as the airstrikes kept pounding and smashing the Old City as the terrorists kept retreating into a shrinking pocket. It was now one o'clock and I had to run and keep dismantling bombs and mines hidden in toys and ordinary objects that seemed innocuous but were deadly to the civilian. I snipped wires and loosened bolts and carefully removed nails from bombs, but the sounds of gunfire were very close and Iraq Security Forces were relentlessly shelling enemy positions and risking civilian lives in the process as well. Someone shouted in Arabic " اليكسي، تشغيل لحياتك!" (Alexei, run for your life!) I dashed out of the building and I heard the whooshing and whistling sound before the bomb struck and blew up the building and caused it to send smoke and shards and rock shooting everywhere, I felt debris plunge into my left leg and I screamed as pain burned into my leg and crimson fluid dripped down and stained the sandy ground and I couldn't even move, even as I was twitching on the ground, I thought of Glenn, Oleg, Anastasia, Tom, Julian, Mom, Dad and everyone else I had failed, I cried tears as the blood began to trigger a long dormant urge to cut, I managed to stay clean for five years and all of my efforts were bitterly wasted and in a warzone no less. I couldn't believe that even as an old man with gray and white hair that replaced my brown hair and wrinkles from stress and lack of sleep have deeply carved into my pristine and once youthful skin, I was still childishly attached to my past, no matter where I ran or hid, I would still see my past in one way or another. I saw a Federal Policeman running towards me in the dusty, smoky mayhem and he picked me up gently and carried me bridal-style and dashed for the bunker about several hundred meters away and I was placed on a makeshift operating table and I blacked out after that.


	16. Amendment one: I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul

I was patched up quickly and returned home, this was a huge blow in terms of morale because I was a high-ranking foreigner and I was badly wounded in action and this was further proof for the Iraqi refugees that Iraq was still not safe to return to. I came back to Moscow, Putin was dead and Medvedev was now president and the prime minister would soon be elected in a snap election in the Duma. This time by the orders of the Marshal of the Russian Federation Oleg Taminsky (Oleg Menshikov's cousin) I was sent to a favela in Brazil and I was supposed to investigate and eliminate any drug cartel members in Rio De Janerio, I hated South America. Nearly twenty years ago, I almost died in a mission in Colombia and I hate being in jungles, they are so thick and dense that you could get lost in there without proper training and navigational equipment, I drove through the streets filled with tourists and glamor filled apartments occupied with people living the ritzy life that poor people could only dream about, I was still wealthy but not as wealthy as I once was because of the fees I had to pay to surrender my U.S citizen so I could become a pure blooded Russian citizen. Many of the people here were drunk and flaunting colorful costumes from the carnival parade as well as wearing faux shiny jewelry to deter thieves while they stumbled and half-danced and giggled wildly while enjoying the nightlife, when I entered the favela, the scene changed dramatically, the streets were empty as trash littered the sidewalks, the homes here were poorly lit and were clad with aluminum, here there were Brazilian soldiers and peacekeepers on patrol and Raul Gomez formally saluted me and quickly briefed me on the situation on the hill and warned me that "Cartels are smarter than ISIS and that is coming from the fact that I served in Homs, Syria and I have fought against the Black Hawk Cartel in Colombia."


	17. Amendment two: I said what I said and I meant it, but now I regret it

As I storm the Favela complex with my Brazilian counterparts, everything is a mess, everybody is fighting and I am chasing after the drug lord Oscar Cortez and bullets and mortar shells are flying everywhere. As my heart pounds with terror and exhaustion, I wish I hadn't been so harsh to Danny all those years ago, I now realize that there are no chances of me reconnecting with my ex-teammates, last time I checked, I had at least fifty medals and ribbon bars from fighting all over the world and saving governments from collapse and all this time I was busy fighting and killing while my ex-teammates were busy earning trophies and accolades that nobody would remember about, those worthless accolades they earned would not save the world form evil people, people easily forget that. But they were at one point my friends, they once cared about me. Did they once love me? Did they once respect me? Did they once care about me? Did they once have feelings of unity with me? These questions will never be truly be answered, I wish I had answers, but I certainly don't. I take down Oscar and my counterpart slaps the hand cuffs on Oscar's wrists and my job is officially done from here. I sigh as I sit on the roof of a house as the fireworks boom and people cheer and keep drinking, I realize that this is the same lifestyle that destroyed my previous career, I will stay away from alcohol and I will never drink so I can be forced into another rehab center in Russia, I drink some borscht (Beet soup) that I cooked over a mini-stove powered with propane and as the pink rays of the sun rise over the green and gray hills of Rio, I know that I really am alone, my wife is dead. My son is fighting for his life as an airman in the DPRK and my only younger brother is also dead. I wanted love and I wanted respect, but it came at the cost of my loyalty towards the United States, when I rescinded my US citizenship, I shredded my US passport and burned the remains of it and laughed at my past as it burned away with the passport.


	18. Amendment three A solider will fight hard and long to get a colored ribbon

As i stand stiffly and formally, I Rob Gronkowski, Nom De Guerre: Alexie Menshikov, am ready to recive the final military honor, I have changed since I left the United States, I became a solider, a husband and a father, and now a widower. My son has been deployed to Jakarta, Indonesia and I am praying he will someday return. The medals I am receving are: The Order of Alexander Nevsky, The Order of Military Merit, the Medal for Courage, and the Award for the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation. I have seven rows of medals on my chest and as the veterans clap politely, President Medvedev congratulates us on our service to Mother Russia and our sacrifices to protect our people, my life has changed so much that if I told the story of my life to my 25 year old self, he would laugh at me and call me crazy. But I was the one who experienced the ups and downs of my life, my hair is pure white and my face is filled with wrinkles, but I still want to fight, there is no other lifestyle I have ever known, and I want to die like a man and take the bullets for my comrades, I gently take off the worn maroon beret that i have worn for over a decade now and I kiss it like I always do whenever I put it on. Each of us does this and I deliver my speech to thank and honor the comrades who fought and died by my side and suddenly I see Tom Brady just beyond the barrier tape and something tells me that he delibrately came here to screw me up. To hell with that asshole! Screw him! I keep delivering my speech and after the ceremony, I deliberatly ingnore Tom and start talking with Medvedev and he senses my distaste for someone and continues to talk to me about personal matters becuase military matters were classified and could not be discussed outside the Kremlin and we were in the Expocenter Convention Center since the Kremlin chambers were too small for the families of the recipients of the awards and the diplomats and their families as well as the Duma members and their families as well. This irratates Tom and he gives up and leaves and Dimitry then asks "Why do you hate that man?" I coldly reply "We have a history that i would rather not bring up." And that is the end of the subject as his wife leads him away with his security detail while I return to my apartment in central Moscow.


	19. Amendment four: Help is a privilege, not a right

What goes out of us as effort comes back to us as character. The alchemy never fails  
Life is funny in ways you can never imagine, one minute you are sailing on high as a kite and the next, you are fighting for oxygen that can never seem to reach your lungs in an act of self-sacrifice and love for the country in hopes in will repay you for that pain and torture you have endured so that others may live in your stead. Sometimes life will show you a window to the people of your past, sometimes you will cry tears of joy, other times you will cry tears of sadness, and Life has a way of treating you the way you treated others. Its called Karma and I have seen it in action in both on the battlefield and off. I am a fighter for Mother Russia, but I never really expected to meet up with Jason Garrett, the former head coach of the Dallas Cowboys as he is the Ambassador to Russia from the United States, his Russian is fluid and melodic and flows like a river, I have forbidden feelings for him, his blue eyes are as beautiful as ever and his red hair is still as red as ever, and he still looks very youthful for someone who is now 64 years old, his smile still has a glittery appearance and his teeth are so white and pure, it makes me think of how long has he scrubbed his teeth to be so white and shiny. My heart pounds in my chest like a mallet pounding a drum, these are feelings I have not had since I accidentally bumped into Anastasia and eventually married and buried her after she died of a massive heart attack. I quickly and discreetly take off my beret and wipe off the sweat then I kiss the beret and slip it back on and suddenly after the meeting, I take him to my humble and cramped apartment and I give him some tea and some Bird's Milk Cake and his smile becomes a broad grin and says that he loves Russian sweets and he then tells me of his life and how his team won a super bowl under Nafe Prescott and his smile suddenly fades as he tells me of how he found Dak's body with a gunshot wound to the forehead and as tears form in his steely blue eyes, his lips begin to tremble and Jason then tells me "In the weeks before his suicide, I didn't believe him that he was being stalked and harassed and bullied by everyone around him and he even told me that the police wouldn't listen to him and he practically begged me to listen to him but I dismissed him, I laughed him even but I never seriously considered the fact that Dak really was suicidal until it was too late. I..I still can't believe that a young man like Dak with his whole life ahead of him could take his own life like that." I felt tears wet my face, this was the repercussions of a man's suicide and I was to blame, I now knew how much damage I had caused as a former member of the KGB, I had reduced a grown man to tears making Jason think that it was all his fault that his own player took his life. I had destroyed countless lives in the road to redemption and I was nowhere closer to my destination than I was over eighteen years ago. Jason cried for several minutes before I poured him some Pepsi and he calmed down slightly as I held him. I didn't know how to tell Jason that I was the reason Dak had committed suicide, as Jason drank a little he told me "I really don't feel like staying at the same embassy that your brother stayed in I am going to rent a apartment room, I need to leave so I can find a room to stay in." Before I knew what I was saying I told him "Stay with me, I am a solider and I can keep you safe." Jason looked incredulous and said "I can't stay with you, there isn't enough room for me to stay with you, it would be too much for you to handle." I simply replied "I insist, it would be an honor for me to house an honorable American Ambassador like you Jason, I hope you will be able to help improve relations between your nation and mine." Jason asked "Did you rescind your US citizenship Alexei?" I nodded and he said "Fine, I will stay with you, but only if the embassy approves of my choice."


	20. Amendment five: "Don't speak the human's language anymore, no one cares anymore"

Through the months of anxiety of my son being in the Philippines, it helps that I busy myself with paperwork and Jason busies himself with his work of improving relations and representing the United States, I frequently commute between the Kremlin and my apartment and whenever I sneak looks at Jason while he isn't aware, I can feel emotions that are evoked within me that I wish I could tell him. How will he react, I don't know. All I know is that he told me is that he is divorced from his wife and I feel something within me, does he feel the same way? I need to take that risk on my own since I have no friends that can give me advice on this and Russians have a unspoken no-no rule on homosexuality so I am quite literally taking a blind risk on this...here goes nothing.(sigh.) As the night goes on, I make some spaghetti with sauce and a side of borscht and after dinner, Jason drinks some club soda and I take a deep breath and I begin by saying "Um...Jason I need to tell you, I have felt a strange feeling towards you, a feeling that really can't be described and really its frankly complicated." But before I can go on, Jason leans over and kisses me and he shushes me and he deepens the kiss and I realize then that I want this, I have craved this moment to happen and the older man is taking initiative and he leans over so that I am on the bottom and I can only stare at his intense and icy blue eyes as they bore into my soft brown ones and from there, he takes off my clothes and he takes off his suit and he asks "You want this to happen?" I moan in consent and I beg him "C'mon don't keep a solider waiting, will you?" I feel my heart speeding up as he takes off my pants and massages my lower body before noticing the old cuts and suddenly he looks devastated and he says "Why would you do this to yourself Alexei?" I explain "These cuts are old, I stopped cutting when Oleg was born." Jason tells me with a serious tone "You must never take up that terrible occupation again, please, I love you Alexei and I don't want you to get hurt, when you feel like doing that, come to me anytime." And with that ended my twenty year old addiction to cutting


	21. The lust and heat of the night takes on a new dimension

Suddenly Jason began to seductively massage me as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. I made sure that the curtains were down so that nobody would see our lovemaking session. Jason pressed himself deeply into me as his thrusts became stronger. I moaned with pleasure as my bottom filled with creamy liquid and I screamed Jason's name several times and I felt myself coming too. I hadn't felt this kind of pleasure since I had conceived Oleg and groans and moans were now filling the air as we lay on my bed, exhausted but happy as we finished our session by deeply kissing one another. I knew that I was essentially kissing a foreigner, an American but I really didn't care, Jason traced circles on my face and started kissing all of my scars and he whispered to me "I really don't care about being an ambassador anymore, it really is a boring job, why was your brother sent to Tbilisi, I really don't know, but I do know that I love you so much Alexei, I really do." I fell asleep to the sound of Jason's soft breathing, I had some troubled thoughts on how my son Oleg would take to the fact that I was in love with a man. I hoped it would not hurt his feelings and I hoped he would not tell on me and expose me to the government.


	22. I can't forgive and I can't forget.

I was told that I would be sent to Taiwan under my new Nom De Guerre Andrei Kuznetsov to meet up with the prime minister. I was told that I would also see somebody that would most likely shock me, when I arrived in Taiwan, the people greeted me and gave me flowers and warmly welcomed me and they cheered my name as I exited the airport, the tensions between Taiwan and China were reaching a boiling point and Russia could not afford to be dragged into another illegal war set up by George Soros. I brushed my white hair aside and sat down with the prime ministers of Taiwan; Tsai Ing-Wen and China; Xi Jinping, I smiled a broad smile as both ministers smiled and bowed to me. I was nervous, I could only hope I made peace out of this tense and hostile situation, I suddenly realized that my brother was assassinated after this kind of meeting. I took a deep breath before beginning the negotiations. It was four hours later and both prime ministers agreed not to attack each other. I felt fear freeze my veins as I exited the building carrying folders and files. I bumped into Tom Brady and I deeply apologized before leaving into the limo. I drank some water and ate some Borscht and bread before heading into a dreamless sleep. I knew that my relationship with Jason Garrett was built on an illusion and illusions tend to crash after a year or two, it would be a matter of time before our illusion would crash too.


	23. There are no happy endings for heroes

I ran my fingers through my white hair and continued filing paperwork in the Kremlin for Medvedev day after day repeating the same schedule, while Jason kept travelling and talking and making speeches in Russian and English and making and brokering all sorts of deals for both nations to finally thaw the icy relations between the two superpowers but today my good mood was brought to a smashing halt when Jason tearfully told me that he had been recalled, effective immediately because two other American ambassadors had been assassinated in China and Cambodia and I was deeply upset by that. What destroyed a year's worth of trust, love, lust and longing for one another was the fact that he had found out who I really was. Let's just say it didn't end well. Jason screamed with red rimmed eyes and he looked utterly betrayed as he shouted "I DATED A TRAITOR?!?" He threw a football at me but I dodged it and he ranted "I can't believe that I fell in love with the enemy of the country I was supposed to represent! I really did trust you Alexei! Your brother would be so disappointed in you if he was still alive! Taking advantage of my feelings like that! How could you? How dare you? I guess the saying really does apply in this situation 'Once a traitor, always a traitor!' Goodbye Alexei, I hope we never see each other again, I wish I had never met you, I hope your son finds out what you really are...a liar!" And with that he was gone, gone from my life forever! I was on my knees sobbing for Jason over and over as my chest painfully constricted and relaxed as tears streamed down my face-so much for the promise to never drink, I would drink, but I would make sure it was for the very last time. I grabbed Vodka and beer and wine and went home, I drank like I did when I was a foolish young man, but those weren't to the point of lethality, I really didn't give a shit about my life anymore. I decided to finish off my worthless, shitty life with my high strength sleeping pills that I took nightly, I drank some more and cut and carved in the flesh all sorts of words in Russian and blood began to drip down the cuts as his voice echoed through my mind and I fell a graceless fall from grace as my vision blurred and the puddle of blood grew, all I could think of was 'Jason, I am so sorry I let you down, I really did love you.' My head jerked upwards as I heard the phone ring and when I picked it up, I was told that Jason had left with James Mattis, Secretary of Defense on a military transport. I howled as the last silver chance of getting Jason back was gone forever, the alcoholic drinks fueled my dreams, fantasies, my delusions and now my nightmares and they were the drinks that destroyed my old life. I can safely say...I am alone now...I really am now...I just wish...somebody would just tell Jason and help him...I want him back so badly...I can only imagine him being happy now as he reunites and perhaps even remarries his ex-wife...there are no happy endings for heroes.......I fall onto my side and close my eyes as I hear the distant shatter of the beer bottle and as the knocking gets louder.


	24. Enter Oleg Menshikov

I am Oleg Menshikov and I am finally returning from my deployment in the Philippines, I really want to surprise my father and make him happy, he seemed so sad and depressed lately on skype even though he was in a relationship with a man. I really didn't mind their relationship given that they didn't make it public, I really was tingling with excitement and I was knocking on his door but he didn't seem to answer, I knocked louder and at that moment Jason Garrett came to me and said that he had broken up with my father and he was coming back to tell my father that he wanted to give the relationship another chance. I was slightly worried for my father's mental health because he had been suicidal since he was my age, I really felt bad for my father, nobody should go through what my father had gone through, he deserved better. I found the key under a window ledge and unlocked the door, the smell of alcohol and blood hit me on instant and I saw an empty bottle of sleeping pills lying on its side and I saw broken glass scattered everywhere and I shivered even in my standard issue air force jacket and I called out "Dad? Dad?" Jason looked pale in the soft lighting and when I saw my dad's body, I ran over to him and placed my fingers on his carotid artery and tried to find a pulse and I found none, I panicked and I realized that he was not breathing and I decided to call 112, I felt something wet on my cheeks and I realized that I was crying, this was the first time that I was crying since my mom passed away when I was only 14, I felt anger rush through my heart when I read my dad's suicide note, I screamed and yelled so many unprintable obscenities at Jason. I yelled "You killed my dad, I really can't believe that you could just up and break his heart like that, because of you, I am an orphan, you are lucky your mother and father are still alive in the United States but my mom and now my dad are dead, he loved you so much that he kept mentioning you in his note!" When he took it, he looked stunned and he looked like he was on the verge of tears, he handed back the note with a shaking hand and looked down with shame. I screamed about my father being suicidal before I passed out in a policeman's arms. When I woke up, my father's body was in the morgue and Jason was in the custody of the Russian FSB and KGB in a detention cell awaiting interrogation and I was in another cell waiting to be released from observation, Alexander Rusivsky told me that Jason had caused such a huge international incident that James Mattis and President David Kirkland would personally apologize to me upon the behalf of the American Embassy and that Jason would be deported to the United States to face trial, I felt hollow, I knew that apologies weren't going to bring my dad back, I cried in his arms as he held like my father did whenever I failed a test and the guilt would become too much for me. I knew the future was dark and I was really hurting, I regretted leaving my dad, I wish I hadn't been deployed, but I really didn't have much of a choice anyway.


	25. The overwhelming darkness

As Jason Garrett was extradited to the United States as a federal prisoner and under suicide watch, the funeral of Alexei Menshikov commenced with tears and sobs and prayers as the priest began his prayers for the broken dead man who had no bonds or ties to anyone but his son and his parents, Oleg met up with his grandparents for the first time and he was wearing his Russian Air Force uniform too. Oleg was very sorry, he tearfully apologized to them over and over as he sought their forgiveness, after all they were his father's parents. Alexei lay in a open casket and dressed in his army uniform as he lay in state at the Kremlin where he had worked for so long. Oleg was humbled by the amount of people who came to his father's funeral, he then stood at the podium and spoke of his father and how he would miss him and how he would honor his father and remember him. He wiped away some tears and walked away before breaking down into sobs and he wailed in Russian to his father "Why did you do this? I thought you loved me! I am so sad, I am so lonely, I do not have a wife or a girlfriend. Why? You were my only friend since mother died!" Oleg cried and leaned on a comrade from the Russian Navy and let loose the storm of tears that he had held in for so long. Jason stood before the US judge, pleading for his life as he trembled on the witness stand, being interrogated by the prosecutor attorney that Oleg had hired to take down Jason. He knew Jason had done evil and he was determined to make the man pay for his actions. Oleg was tired, very tired and he wanted some rest, but his chest was hurting so badly, he flew all the way to Boston and confronted Tom Brady and yelled at him for driving Alexei from America, then he went on a screaming session against Jimmy Garoppolo who had leaked the information of Alexei's alcoholism to TMZ and for destroying his father's reputation. Jimmy could only stare at how furious the Russian looked as he screamed and cursed him, Oleg looked so much like his father but slightly thinner and much taller, he had icy blue eyes and brown hair and deathly pale skin that was marred with knife and gunshot wounds, there were hints of darkness in his irises like he had seen worse monsters and how he was unafraid of a retired second string quarterback, the young man was wearing a Russian air force uniform and pilotka and his medals and epaulettes and farrugates were bouncing around as he yelled and clutched his chest and suddenly passed out.


	26. The Homecoming

After Oleg had been discharged from the hospital, he thanked the medics that saved his life and left for Russia, just in time for the National Elite Exams to become a member of the Spetsnaz. He had to lift heavy weights and demonstrate his knowledge in combat and the different types of guns and knives and equipment as he was told to disassemble and assemble and maintain guns, then he was tested in live-fire situations and he had to use several grenades then he was sent to a drowning stimulation chamber and was forced to untie himself from a chair while the room flooded with icy water to decrease his ability to think, he had to escape but he barely managed it through an air vent. Then Oleg was buried alive and he was told to dig himself out, which he barely managed to do and when he reached the surface, he was gasping for air as the next test was body combat, Oleg was glad he decided to train in Muay Thai when he was still a child and easily fought off ten other candidates, then he was forced to run ten miles in thirty minutes and in the last test, Oleg was forced to walk on coals that were on fire and he failed miserably. Oleg was not disappointed but he was still sad that he couldn't pass the last test. Somehow Oleg's written exam scores made up for the coal incident and he managed to get his maroon beret. Oleg cried and cried, he wished his father was still alive to see this moment, he felt so elated when the beret was handed to him, he knelt and kissed the earth of his motherland and his father's adopted nation: Russia and he shouted in Russian, his beloved language, "To serve the Russian Federation Special Forces!" He knew his future was bright, he would serve with honor and integrity and God almighty would take care of the rest.


	27. A new beginning of the future.

Oleg was as busy as ever with missions on his mind. It had been seven months since his father died and yet the grief was still as fresh as ever in his mind. He was still withdrawing from socializing becuase of his emotional pain and suffering from the loss of his father. His journey was not easy to become a soldier but to Oleg, every sacrifice for mother Russia was worth it. Meanwhile Owen had been conscripted to be in the Russian army over eight months ago, he was raised in a normal family and experienced no tragedy that would scar him like Oleg was scarred. Owen attended Alexei's funeral and was stunned by his accomplish during his lifetime. Owen knew that Oleg would have a tough time dealing with his emotions because Oleg knew that the emotions he experienced could kill others. Unfortunately, Owen was sent to Vladivostok for arctic soldier training to test out his specialties but about six months later, he washed out of the training program and returned to Moscow where Oleg was still awaiting orders for the next deployment. Owen say Oleg busily punching a boxing bag angrily and Owen spoke to him in Russian "Why are you punching the bag like that, it has done nothing to you?" Oleg's arms dropped to their sides and he sat down with the conscript and tried to explain his emotions and his struggle with his depression and Owen knew then he had to save Oleg before it was too late. Owen told him "Grief is not easy, it never is, whoever said it was has not experienced it first hand. But that doesn't mean you must remain stuck in the past, and wallow in misery, that is not what anyone wants for you. Your health matters to everyone. Your father fell into a trap of addiction to escape from his own mistakes and sins, don't do what he did. You must confront and fight your depression or it will get worse and worse than ever." Oleg realized Owen was right, he needed to get back from this setback stronger than ever before in order to succeed. He was determined to never use razor knives to hurt himself or to drink alcohol to get away from bad memories, it would harm him in the long run. He hugged Owen so tightly that he swore a few curses and Oleg let him go, but Owen added "if you need anything, even counseling, just call or text me, I will give you resources to go to them and get help. You are never alone, you have Mother Russia behind you."


End file.
